Loyalty and War

by Devon Vesper

  Aenali giggled and looked up at the beast with so much adoration, Valis thought she might spontaneously combust from the amount of warmth she radiated. “Aww!”

  “Indeed. He’s a sweet boy.” Valis patted Rasera’s face and stepped away. “And he’s got some work to do, which, strangely enough, he seems to love as much as playing.”

  “Is everything ready?” Tavros asked as he came around from the back of the cart. “The back is down and it’s ready for loading.”

  Valis nodded and took a deep breath, glancing around at the different shops and stalls. “Everything is ordered. They might be finished packing it all up now.”

  “I want to go get a few things,” Aenali said, still giving Rasera love. “Can I?”

  “If you can leave Rasera alone long enough, then sure,” Valis teased.

  She laughed and skipped off, again followed closely by her brother who seemed to materialize out of thin air from one of the shops to hustle after her. Rasera went to follow, but then must have realized he was attached to a cart. He snorted his displeasure and stamped his hoof.

  “She’ll be back you big baby.” Valis ran a hand down his horse’s face and smiled when Rasera lipped at his fingers, almost as if in forgiveness. “You’ll get to play with her once we get back. Will that appease you?”

  Rasera nickered and butted his head against Valis’s chest, and Valis swore that horse understood every word he said.

  Sighing, Valis left his horse and started gathering parcels from all the vendors, getting their word that the rest would be delivered to the caravan throughout the day and the next because more of everything had to be made due to space and stock limitations of their stalls and shops. And in a short time, Valis and the others rode the ferry across the lake toward the caravan parked along the shore.

  “There’s so many!” Aenali squeaked and started her excited bouncing again. “They’re so pretty!”

  She, of course, was talking about the herd of black horses grazing along the line of weeping whiptails. And the moment they docked, she didn’t know where to go first—the herd, her brother for permission, or the Kalutakeni camp to ask their permission. She seemed to vibrate in place until Zhasina whistled and her horse, Zorar, came galloping toward them.

  “I’ll take Aenali to play with the horses,” she said. “You all can deal with the parcels.”

  “Sounds fair,” Valis said, waving them off. “Have fun, Aenali!”

  “I will!” she cried.

  Now that Aenali was occupied, Valis led Rasera toward the camp’s center where most of the tribe sat around the fire as usual. They all seemed to look at the group at once, and Valis waved. “We’ve brought more supplies.”

  “More?” Venabi stared at him like he’d grown another head. “What more do we need? You already gave us enough money to buy anything we need.”

  Valis motioned to the wagon. “You’ll need a load of winter clothes. Things that will keep you warm through sub-freezing temperatures, through snow, possible blizzards. That means thicker bedrolls, blankets for you and your horses, and other things. I bought as much as I could. I saved out a few parcels for me and my group here, but the rest is for you and the mercenaries. More will be on the way as they’re made throughout the day and tomorrow. But you may need to put in more orders. Just go through everything to see what I bought and buy similar for yourselves if you need it or nothing fits.”

  “Wise,” Vodis said. He sighed. “We have never been through snow. I remembered we can’t use our wagons but forgot our need for winter clothing.”

  Valis smiled. “Good thing I didn’t.” He looked from one person to another and nodded. “I want each person to have at least two winter cloaks, three if you can manage and fit it on your horse with everything else you’ll be carrying. I also want each one of you to have at least five of each item in these parcels. When the temperature dips, you can add more layers. It might be annoying, but you’ll be warm.”

  Venabi motioned to the wagon, and people filed by her to start unloading. Then she motioned for Valis and his friends to come have a seat around the fire. “You’re thinking we will be out for most of the winter?”

  “I’m making sure we’re prepared for it, just in case,” Valis said with a nod. “And I have a feeling that, if all goes well, we will be leaving soon. I asked the shopkeepers to bring in their apprentices for mass production, because I want everything ready to go within two days, again, just in case.”

  Venabi nodded and rubbed the scar on her cheek. “We can do this.” She nodded and dropped her hand to her lap as she looked back up at Valis. “We will start gathering food stores for our journey. But we will need at least two carts for the heavy things.”

  “Buy four carts, just in case. If one breaks, we can shift the loads, save parts for spare, and ditch it along the way.”

  “Smart.” Venabi glanced around and watched her men and women unloading the cart for a moment. “I also want two horses unburdened other than their riders in case we need couriers.”

  Valis nodded. “I appreciate that. I’ll be doing most of our correspondence via two-way scry with Thyran during our journey, but if something happens to me, or we need something or someone not from the monastery, that will help greatly.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “I know you have Kaliz as your courier. Do you have another?” Valis asked. “The mercenaries also have a trained courier, Sirvi.”

  Venabi tilted her head, staring off into middle distance for a moment. Then she focused on Valis again. “We will have our second-best on standby just in case we need a third. It is better to be over-prepared than under.”

  “Agreed.”

  After a few more moments of Venabi seeming off, she finally leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and stared at him intently. “Valis, I must tell you… I was not going to, but I believe you should know.”

  Valis’s stomach pitted, and he frowned. “What is it?”

  “A messenger came with a note from one of your Patron Priests, a Brother Bachris.”

  Valis groaned. “Fuck. Let me guess, he told you something along the lines that you’re not to accompany me for an unsanctioned mission.”

  “More or less,” she said, irritation lacing every word. “He said that, as allies of Avristin, we are under obligation to follow the monastery’s rules. And that, should we find ourselves propositioned for a mission, we must refuse. And if we have already accepted this mission, we are to back out of our agreement immediately.”

  Snorting, Valis shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll almost bet he sent a matching missive to the mercenaries.”

  Venabi shrugged. “I sent him a reply saying that yes, we were allies of the monastery, but that your actions and help are what solidified our relations, and our loyalty is to you and Seza first, as brother and wife to our Zhasina, and Avristin after.” She gave him a feral grin that pinched her scar and made her seem sinister as anything. “I have yet to receive a return reply. Perhaps he forgets that he cannot command people who are not his and cannot expect loyalty when he shows disloyalty to one of his own. …I may have put those words in my reply as well. Just a forewarning.”

  “I’m not sure if I’ve said this before, but if I did, I’ll say it again,” Seza said, “I really like you. You’re my kind of girl.”

  That feral grin grew, and Valis lost it, laughing and leaning against Tavros. “Venabi… you’re lovely and terrifying. Never change.”

  Zhasina came over with Zorar following along behind her, an excited Aenali on his naked back and Jedai walking along beside them to keep her from falling off. Zhasina winked at her countrywoman. “She is terrifying, isn’t she?”

  “In the best of ways,” Valis said fondly. “The very best of ways.”

  He glanced behind him since he hadn’t seen any of the Kalutakeni moving the packages in a while, and seeing the cart empty, he stood and adjusted his cloak. “Now that they’re done unloading, we should be heading back. If you run
into any trouble from Brother Bachris, let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

  “You sound as if you are about to go into war,” Venabi mused.

  Valis grimaced. “That’s more accurate than you might think. I’m about to go pay the Patron Priest a visit, and I’m not leaving until this mission is sanctioned and scheduled.”

  “I wish you luck, my friend.” She stood and touched the center of his chest in solidarity. “We are with you.”

  Valis returned the gesture, avoiding her tightly bound breasts. “Thank you. I couldn’t do this without your help and that of the mercenaries.”

  “And you will not have to,” Venabi said with a smirk, “regardless of what Brother Bachris wants.”

  As Valis and his friends rode the ferry back to Cadoras Island, Valis’s glanced back at the caravan with a full heart and a renewed sense of hope. Now, it was time to plan. It was time to confront Brother Bachris for the final time, and he had to have a solid plan going into the meeting if he wanted even the slimmest chance of success.

  “I’m not sure I like that face,” Tavros muttered. He glanced over at Valis again and sighed. “That’s your ‘I’m going to ruin everyone’s day’ face that you usually get when going into battle.”

  Valis stared at the nearing city wall. “We’ve got everything in place and the only thing left is Brother Bachris.”

  He smiled at his husband and took his hand. “It’s time.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Valis took a few deep, cleansing breaths before knocking on Brother Bachris’s office door. He didn’t want to go in there angry and ready to fight. If possible, he wanted to reason with the man, and prove to him somehow that he was doing the right thing.

  “Everything will be fine,” Tavros said at his side. “And if he still refuses, we’ll take the matter up with the Grand Master Aesriphos ourselves. Keep calm, Valis. We can do this. Just remember that Brother Bachris is our friend, not an enemy to vanquish.”

  “Yeah.” Valis sighed and shook the tension from his body. As he knocked a second time, though, and still received no answer, Valis opened the door and stuck his head in to find it empty.

  “Brother Bachris is up in the Hall of Communion if you are looking for him, boys,” a passing priest said. “He should still be there. He only ascended about twenty minutes past.”

  “Thank you,” Valis said with a kind smile for her. “We’ll go up immediately.”

  She smiled back and nodded, then continued on her way through the hall. Valis turned the other way with Tavros close behind and headed for the stairs that would lead them up to the temple. Having Brother Bachris not be where Valis had planned threw him a bit, and as he ascended the stairs, he tried to regain his composure. He needed to shake this sense of being so wrong-footed and reroute his thoughts. His damned anxiety was getting the better of him and he didn’t want to botch this meeting.

  Once they reached the temple doors, Valis raised a hand to stall the Aesriphos from opening them. “Give me a moment, please. I need to get my head on straight so I don’t make an ass of myself, or an enemy from my friend.”

  Kaltani grinned at him. “Good idea.”

  “Yeah, I thought so, too,” Valis said as he leaned against the wall perpendicular to the doors. “And my anxiety’s spiking again.”

  “Still from that nightmare?” Netai asked. “It must have been something.”

  Valis shuddered. “I dream, every night, of my father’s death in horrid, gruesome detail. And I feel everything he feels so vividly and hear his thoughts.”

  He shook himself and rubbed his face. “I don’t think this is from the nightmare, though. It’s just… He’s been like another father figure to me, you know? And having him deny something like this feels like such a betrayal. But… because he is another father figure, I want to make him proud, and I know that, no matter what I do in this situation, I’m disappointing him.”

  “Oh, Valis.” Tavros squeezed his hand. “You and your giant heart.”

  Kaltani abandoned her post and cupped Valis’s face, tipping it up so he looked at her instead of the floor. The warmth of her fingers bled out through the metal of her gauntlets, lending Valis a bit of comfort from her touch.

  “You never had to worry about upsetting your father before, because until he died, your birth father wasn’t a real father at all.” She smiled and patted his cheek. “Your adopted fathers, Kerac and Darolen, never had anything to correct you on, at least nothing major. So you’ve never had to fight for your rights or beliefs against them.”

  When Valis frowned, she patted his face again. “Children always have, and always will come to odds with their parents at one point in time, Valis. Just because you do not agree on something doesn’t mean they will stop loving you, just as you won’t stop loving him for being an overbearing ass.”

  Valis huffed a laugh and wiped his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Just remember that love is stronger than arguments, disputes, or even physical fights. It is how you men are made. You are prone to aggression sometimes, and in many cases, naturally assertive. He has been a leader for many years, and you have been a leader for a few months. You are both trying to lead and are butting heads. But, Valis… he will never stop loving you for fighting for what you believe in. Keep that in your heart, all right?”

  Sighing, Valis leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Kaltani.”

  She smiled gently at him and went back to her post. “You are welcome. Do you feel better?”

  “Much.”

  “Good. Now go in there and fight for what you believe in.” With that, she and her wife grabbed the ornate handles to the temple doors and pulled them open, revealing the Light of Phaerith shining down on the two people talking in hushed tones inside.

  Valis studiously kept his eyes level. He didn’t dare even glance up, or he’d be lost to Phaerith’s Light until someone shaded his eyes to break his trance. He needed to be present and get this done. But as he entered and walked the sapphire runner toward the two near the reliquary doors, Valis wished he could get lost in the comfort that Light brought.

  Brother Bachris turned to look who came and frowned. With him, the large woman wearing heavily ornate ceremonial armor glanced his way, too, and Valis gasped.

  “Warmaster Isophel! I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “That’s Grand Master Aesriphos to you turds,” she sneered, but Valis saw a hint of playfulness in her one good gray eye. “I am only the Warmaster when I’m training young pukes like you two,” she said, her voice raspy and broken from shouting orders in battle. “But, you did well, lads. You made me proud.”

  Just like before, she had the top half of her fiery red hair pulled into a tight, high ponytail. The long tail trailed down her chest in an ornate braid that brushed past her waist. The lower half of her head seemed as if it was just recently shaved, only a hint of copper stubble showing. And when she smiled, the scar that trailed from her right temple, over her cloudy eye and down to the corner of her mouth pinched in a way that made her look completely evil.

  Before, when she was in her regular armor, her shoulders had been almost as broad as Valis’s own. But in that ornate armor, she dwarfed him and seemed so imposing that Valis almost shrank away. When she beckoned him forward, though, he went without hesitation. Duty always went before his own anxiety or aversion.

  “What brings you?” she asked. Though, the way she asked, Valis doubted she didn’t know, and the way she looked at him, with a hint of exasperation, Valis was almost certain she asked only out of social niceties.

  Valis swallowed down his first reply and turned his attention to Brother Bachris. “I came to see the Patron Priest about a matter we discussed before. I wish to launch a rescue mission to save my father, Darolen Jaund, and I have come to petition for the sanction again.”

  “You are not going on that foolish mission!” Brother Bachris said with such ire that his face reddened. “I forbid it!” He sliced the air with his hand in a gestur
e of finality, and Valis had to bite back the disappointed sigh that threatened to escape him. He had hoped, but somehow, he knew Brother Bachris would still be adamantly against him.

  “If you call his request foolish one more time, Brother, I will have you removed from your station,” Isophel warned. “Watch yourself. Rescuing an Aesriphos is never a foolish endeavor. And it never will be.”

  “I beg your pardon, Grand Master, but he is too young! Too inexperienced! He will die before he reaches his target, and then what? We not only lose the mercenaries who have vowed loyalty to him, and the Kalutakeni who also allied with him above the monastery, but four bright young Aesriphos and a few of our young laymen warriors. And for what? For an attempt at rescuing a man who will most assuredly be dead before they get a quarter of the way to their destination, if they can even learn the destination at all!”

  Isophel shrugged, looking decidedly unimpressed. “But, if the mission is sanctioned, he would have reliquary guards and Aesriphos at his disposal and to help him become a better leader. This could be a great learning opportunity for him if we were to give him the assistance and men he needs.”

  “You do realize he will be going on a long mission during the full brunt of the winter months, even if he leaves tonight. It is a suicide mission, Isophel. All our sanctioned missions begin at first thaw if winter is close at hand. But I highly doubt Valis would wait even that long.”

  The Grand Master studied Valis for a moment, collecting her thoughts before turning back to Brother Bachris. “How many rescue missions have you known? How many have you sanctioned?”

  The Patron Priest paled and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his tunic. “Three.”